Page 87 of The Otherworld

“He knows. I told him of it.”

“Yes, but I needed to be sure he understood.”

“Understood what?” Frustrated tears quiver in my eyes as I wait for the answer, already knowing what it will be.

“That we don’t have dealings with the outside world. And that future communication with you would be impossible.”

“Impossible,” I rasp, trying to blink away my tears but only succeeding in making a few of them fall—right onto the picture frame sitting on my lap.

“He understood,” Papa says. “He agreed.”

Agreed.

That word pierces my heart, making it ache even more. I look down at the photograph of Mama on her wedding day. My fallen tear rolls down the glass, blurring her smile.

“Adam found this in your dresser drawer.” I place the frame on the table between us.

Papa’s face goes pale.

“Why did you hide it from me?”

His gaze remains fixed on the photograph for a long moment. “Orca, I… I never intended to—”

“Yes, you did!” The words burst out of me. “You told me all these years that you didn’t have any photographs of her. Every time I ask you about her, you avoid answering my questions. I don’t even know how she died, just that she got sick! I don’t know a single thing about her because you refused to tell me. You want to forget her. Why? Because the memories hurt you too much? Did you ever think that maybe I needed some of those memories?”

Papa stares into my tear-streaked face, his eyes wide, his expression unreadable.

“Since the day I was born, you’ve been controlling who will be a part of my life.” My voice wobbles, my breath hitches—but I can’t stop. “First it was Mama. Now it’s Adam.”

“Your mother…” Papa looks down, bracing himself to say the words. “Your mother died. I didn’t take her away from you; she was taken away from both of us.”

“But you’re taking Adam away from me.”

“He left of his own volition—”

“And you made him promise to never return!”

“Orca, it’s for the best—”

“I love him.”

Silence slashes the room. Papa stares at me as though I just struck him across the face.

“I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone. And he loves me, too.”

Confusion and fear tangle in Papa’s eyes as he stares at me. “You told me nothing happened between you and that young man.”

“I lied.” It stings to say those words, but it is a rewarding pain. Like ripping off a bandage. “I lied when I said he didn’t touch me. He did touch me. He held me in his arms, and he kissed me. And I kissed him back, and I would give anything to do it again. To love him again, to feel him hold me again—”

Papa slams his hand on the table, making me startle. “How dare you!” There is a fire blazing in his eyes, a desperate, hopeless fury I’ve never seen before. “Have I taught you nothing, Orca? I thought you were smarter than that! I told you, those people over there aren’t like us. I taught you not to trust them, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but they’re not all bad—”

“That young man took advantage of your innocence,” Papa argues, his voice like thunder. “He filled your head with nonsense about life on the mainland. He invaded our privacy, made it his business to rifle through my things and find this picture and give it to you! He made you believe he cared for you, and made me believe nothing inappropriate happened while I was gone. Filthy, ungrateful scoundrel—”

“Adam is not a scoundrel!” I shout, jumping to my feet. “And he didn’t invade your privacy. I let him borrow some clothes, and he accidentally found that picture. He thought I knew about it already. You misjudge him. You misjudge everyone! You’re so narrow-minded, so controlling—”

“Orca.”

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